No Surprises
by Ro-RoWeasley
Summary: Sam spirals into severe depression while at Stanford. One night things get particularly bad and he finds himself on the edge of ending his life, until in walks a girl who won't let him out of her sight. Slight AU because of Season 5. TW: SH & mentions of suicide.


****SERIOUS TRIGGER WARNING – SELF HARM & SUICIDE**  
** **I've posted this separate from my oneshot collection just because of the nature of the subject. This is something I needed to get off my chest, nothing more. It has been rated M for safety. There is a *** **TRIGGER WARNING*** **attached to this because of self-harm and mentions of suicide. I promise you right now that I am safe and okay. #AlwaysKeepFighting**

* * *

 _…A job that slowly kills you,_  
 _Bruises that won't heal…_  
 _…No alarms and no surprises, please._

 _~No Surprises by Radiohead~ **  
**_

* * *

The nineteen-year-old sophomore shuffled along the gravel path, attracting minimum attention to himself as he headed back to his dorm. Occasionally he brushed shoulders and arms with other students but he just hurried on his way before any complaints reached his ears. Stanford University just outside Palo Alto, California was a stunning campus, even now as the darkness of evening set in. Pale sandstone buildings with bright orange tiled roofs looked more like they belonged to a European resort more than an institution of education.

Sam Winchester noticed nothing of its beauty, his long legs carrying him through the masses of students milling around, too tunnel-visioned to care. Upon entering his room twenty minutes later, he threw his bag unceremoniously onto the bed beside him as he flopped backwards onto the sheets.

He lay there for a few minutes as his heart rate calmed, adrenaline coursing through him which was the only way he was leaving his room these days. The exhaustion would kick in soon enough but he still wouldn't sleep. It was an odd feeling but it was the stress of his college degree, being a Pre-Law student and under constant pressure. Sam was a smart kid and he knew it, but he also still had to give it his all to get into Law school.

Next moment he was dashing to the bathroom as a wave of nausea hit him.

After vomiting what little contents of his stomach he had, having not eaten anything that day, he flushed the head and slowly stood up and moved to turn on the tap. Cupping his hands together under the cool stream he splashed water over his face before wiping away the excess drops as he took in his pale features in the mirror.

There was a pit in his stomach and he stood there, arms braced either side of the sink, blank sunken eyes staring back at him.

He was so worthless. Why was he even trying? Unconsciously, his long fingers sought out the penknife in his jeans pocket flicking steel instrument out as he withdrew his hand.

He stroked the blade across his wrist just with enough pressure to break the skin. Crimson blood seeped from the wound, gravitating across the flesh of his forearm until it leapt into the white ceramic bowl. If he had been doing this to show he wasn't a shifter as part of a job, there would have been some register of pain. But that wasn't why. He was in such emotional turmoil he was numb. Seeing his blood run as he carefully applied pressure again to the skin made the weird feeling in his stomach settle.

For a moment anyway.

He needed to get to fresh air.

Next thing he knew he was sprinting out of his room, taking the building stairwell two at a time. Up and up the final few floors until he hit the fire escape which led to a roof balcony. Sam gasped for breath, doubling over with his hands on his knees like he'd just run a marathon.

After a few minutes, his racing heart was beating steadily and the flow of oxygen to his body was back to a regular pace, he straightened up. His hands interlocked behind his head as he paced the fifteen-square foot space, bordered on two sides by walls.

Then the urge hit him. Just like that.  
A calming numbing sensation washed over him as he truly took in where he was. On the roof. Twenty stories up. His fingers examined the railings, dragging along the cold metal, curling around the bars. On him, nineteen years old and over six-foot-tall, they were barely hip-height. Easily leaped by his gangly frame.

He could fall and it would all be over. No more pain.

"Are you in the astronomy club, too?"

"What?" Sam whirled around, confused and annoyed at this interruption, he hadn't even heard the fire escape open. The voice that had spoken, he could see it belonged to a petite female student with long blonde hair, the light from the still-open door silhouetting her.

"The astronomy club, meet up here every Thursday?" she questioned again, slowly closing the door. Her voice was soft and melodic, and Sam found himself wanting her to keep on talking just so he could soak in the tones. "You're not much of a talker, huh."

He mentally shook himself. "Sorry. Not feeling too good," he responded quickly.

"Clearly, why else would you be up here?"

It wasn't sarcasm or a harsh retort, Sam figured that she was incapable of that attitude. She was approaching him slowly, like one would a wounded animal, but the former hunter couldn't take his eyes off the dulcet smile that played on her face. Although he did after a short while, thinking it would be weird to be caught staring at her, and turned away to lean forward on the metal rails and look out over the campus grounds. His right hand subconsciously rubbed over the fabric of his hoodie which hid his left wrist where he'd purposely cut himself minutes earlier.

"So, astronomy club, huh?" he asked, desperate to hear her voice. It was helping with the urges.

She let out a slightly embarrassed chuckle, moving until she was next to him and mimicking his stance looking out over the world. "Ha, yeah, it's a hobby, something that seems to relax me. There's just something about knowing there is so much out there beyond our small existence that, I don't know, just feels soothing. I'm Pre-Med and so it's kind of the only downtime I get."

Sam nodded, though he disagreed with her. If this sweet and innocent girl knew how much was "out there," monsters and the supernatural, she wouldn't find it soothing. The sophomore did occasionally reflect on the wider universe but had come to the realisation it didn't mean anything. His small existence didn't matter.

Her voice was so soft and warm and he felt it pierce him, breaking through his numb walls. "However small our existence is, I believe we are all important and have something special to give which helps make this world a better place. Even if not everyone can see that in themselves, I can.

"So, when I'm walking down the hallway and see someone in distress running up to the roof of the building like they have lost the will to keep going, I follow them and ensure they know how meaningful they don't realise they are. I won't force them to listen to me but just be there for them. We all need that at least."

That broke Sam and he felt his knees buckle, tears slipping from his hazel eyes. It was like a weight of a thousand galaxies had been lifted from his soul. He collapsed, sliding down until he was sat on the floor with his knees up to his chest. She was right.

The angel of a girl knelt down to him and cupped a soft warm hand to his cheek, this time when she spoke her voice was barely above a whisper. "I know you're hurting but I don't want you to do this, I want to know who you are. Tell me your story."

"Sam. My name is Sam." He took a long steadying breath.

"Hi Sam, I'm Jessica."


End file.
